


Come into my parlour...

by buckybarnes19



Series: Bucky's Big Adventure [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Implications of violence and torture, Mild Language, mild alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarnes19/pseuds/buckybarnes19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He stood aside, opening the door as he did so, and gestured for Fury to come inside. Nick hesitated. After all, the last time he was in this apartment he was almost shot to death and the man that had tried to kill him was now welcoming him inside. Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly, Fury thought as he swept inside past Bucky and down the hall to the living room.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come into my parlour...

**Author's Note:**

> I love Bucky. I love Nick Fury. I experimented a bit with the two of them together. Hopefully it's good

Fury knocked on the door of Steve Rogers’ (alias Captain America) shared apartment and took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. It was no small secret he didn’t much care for Rogers’ friend Barnes, a.k.a. the Winter Soldier. Yes, he’d tried to kill Fury but really, who hadn’t by this point? Fury forgave him that but he never forgot. No, he never forgot. 

The door opened after a moment and Fury tensed, raising his head as he was examined by the man on the other side. James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, alias the Winter Soldier, alias demon asshole from hell as Sam Wilson sometimes affectionately called him, alias constant thorn in Nick Fury’s side. His blue eyes peered levelly into Fury’s and his mouth was set in the smallest of frowns. 

“Morning,” Bucky said.

Fury glanced at the baseball cap on top of his head. It read World’s Greatest Mom. He wondered where Barnes got it but didn’t want to ask in case Barnes was inclined to say. Fury discovered soon after meeting the recovered Barnes that he could graph his life according to his encounters with Rogers and Barnes; if his meetings with the two soldiers was x and his happiness was y, then his happiness dropped significantly during and after each encounter with them, while stress levels rose. He could already feel the headache starting. Thank god he only had one eye so he wouldn’t have to look at too much of them.

“Is he here?” Fury asked, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Bucky cocked his head to one side and regarded Fury with an air of false innocence. “Who?”

Fury gave him an annoyed look. “You know damn well who. Captain Rogers.”

“Steve? No, he went out. But you’re welcome to wait.” He stood aside, opening the door as he did so, and gestured for Fury to come inside. Nick hesitated. After all, the last time he was in this apartment he was almost shot to death and the man that had tried to kill him was now welcoming him inside. Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly, Fury thought as he swept inside past Bucky and down the hall to the living room. He stared at the wall, imagining the bullet holes. The drywall was expertly repaired and painted over. There was even a picture of S.H.I.E.L.D founder Agent Carter on the wall and beside it a few doodles done in crayon, probably by Barnes given the childlike nature of the quality and content. Fury took all this in with his one good eye and then sat in the chair he knew from stories was Bucky’s favourite, and waited. 

When Bucky came into the room he stopped for a moment with his eyes on Fury in his favourite chair, and Nick turned his head slightly to get a better look at him. He’d heard a lot of stories. Bucky was possessive, Bucky could react violently if pushed too far, Bucky would always be recovering but he was a good person at heart. Fury heard all these stories but he knew the ones about Captain Rogers, too, that Steve had a blind spot where his friend was concerned. No matter what good he heard about Barnes he still kept a gun on him whenever he was near the assassin. 

Bucky took a seat on the middle of the couch and smiled pleasantly at Fury. “Would you like some tea?” 

“Never much cared for it,” Fury said, a little stiffly. 

Bucky nodded and then a moment later he said, “Coffee?” 

“Not fond of that stuff either.”

“Are you fond of cupcakes? Sam and I made some yesterday. Vanilla with vanilla icing. I ate all the lemon ones.”

“I’m watching my weight,” Fury said, shifting a little in his seat. “I thought you two had a dog?”

“Steve took him for a walk. They should be back soon.” He stared evenly, almost unblinkingly, at Fury, which Nick was starting to find disconcerting. He met Barnes’ stare with a mute hostility until Barnes surprised him by smiling.

“You wanna talk about it?” Bucky said, a little too slyly for Fury’s liking.

“About what?” Fury said without bothering to hide his annoyance.

Bucky glanced at the wall where his drawings and Miss Carter’s picture hung with pride. “The night I tried to kill you. I guess you could say I wasn’t myself.”

“Do you really think this is a time for puns?” Fury said. He couldn’t decide if he was amused or annoyed but he kept his face neutral anyway. 

Bucky’s thin smile widened a little. "You sound like Steve."

"I’m not sure if you’re trying to insult me or compliment me," Fury said with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Why would I insult you?" 

"You did try to kill me," Fury pointed out. "Or did you forget?"

"I didn’t forget. And I’m sorry," Bucky said, but Fury couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. Barnes’ poker face was as good as, maybe even better, than Fury’s own. He narrowed his eyes, examining Barnes’ face for a lie, and finding nothing he eased back in his seat and watched the man with a puzzled expression. He trusted Steve, as much as Nick Fury trusted anybody, but he did not trust Barnes and not just because the man had almost killed him. Yeah, he’d been brainwashed and tortured and twisted. But the man sitting in front of him now was an enigma and Nick Fury was not fond of anything he couldn’t quantify and explain. 

“Are you going to sit and stare at me all day?” Bucky asked. Fury smiled, the first genuine gesture he’d made since he walked in the door. Barnes was uncomfortable, he could practically smell it, and that discomfort meant Fury had the advantage. 

“Barnes, it’s no secret that I don’t like you,” he said, looking at the other man over interlaced fingers. 

“I’m wounded,” Bucky said. His voice was expressionless. 

“I don’t trust you. I know Steve does but I also think he can be a little... idealistic at times. He has a soft spot for you that I just can’t see.”

“Maybe you don’t want to see it,” Bucky said quietly. 

Fury said nothing, just continued to watch Barnes. 

“Sam trusts me,” Bucky said, almost defiantly, like a scolded child.

“That’s Sam’s choice.”

“And Clint? And Natasha?” 

Fury raised an eyebrow. “Are those really the people you want giving character references?”

Bucky shrugged. “When you run in my kind of circle their trust is high praise.”

“And what kind of circle do you run in? Hydra agent? Reformed, of course.”

Bucky stiffened and his muscles tensed. The plates in his metal arm shifted slightly, the only sound in the room, and something in his eyes glinted. Fury made a slight movement, moving his hand closer to his hidden gun, and waited to see what would happen.

“Actually,” Bucky said. His voice was stiff, like he was fighting to control something in himself, “I was thinking of joining the Avengers. When I’m ready, of course.”

Fury narrowed his eye. Whatever he had expected from Barnes this wasn’t it. He leaned back in the chair, thinking hard and wondering what to say. Several different responses flitted through his mind and he dismissed them all. “Why?” he finally said. He was genuinely curious.

At once Bucky seemed to become shy. He adjusted his ridiculous hat and looked all around the room to avoid meeting Fury’s eye. He shrugged and seemed to think that was enough of an answer.

“Why do you want to join the Avenges?” Fury pressed. “What do you have to offer? And don’t think a shrug counts as an answer.”

Bucky stared out the window for a moment and despite Fury’s direct order he shrugged. “Fighting is all I know. Even as a kid, back in Brooklyn, I was always fighting. Fighting for Steve, usually. I don’t plan on spending my life doing anything else. I want to protect my friends. And I’m sick of always sitting on the sidelines.” His jaw worked and he continued to stare out the window. Fury waited in silence until finally Bucky spoke again. “And I can always do the things he can’t do. I always did. I always have. He’s not just Steve anymore he’s Captain America. A symbol to the nation.” He smiled a little to himself and the expression looked soft and sad. Fury would have softened if he was that kind of man; in that moment he saw the man everyone else saw, the weary former assassin and Steve Rogers’ best friend and comrade returned from the wars, not a valiant hero but a man looking for redemption. 

“I’m not in charge of the Avengers,” Fury said after a moment, “so you don’t have to make a case to me. That’s for Steve to decide. Since SHIELD fell I’ve kind of been... well, I guess I’ve sort of been on vacation. Visiting a few old friends.” Those old friends as, as Fury called them, were S.H.I E.L.D. defectors and spies. Fury was sporting a couple of cracked ribs, almost healed, from one of his latest visits with an ‘old friend’.

Bucky nodded, glanced at the TV like he wanted nothing more than to turn it on, glanced again at Fury, and then resumed staring out the window.

“Y’know,” Fury said, settling back in his chair and hiding the grimace that crossed his face as his cracked ribs sent a ripple of pain through his body, “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

Bucky looked back at him and smiled the littlest bit. “Coffee or tea?”

“Neither. I’ll take that little something stronger I know Captain Rogers keeps in the locked cabinet in his bedroom. I suspect you already know the combination.”

This time Bucky’s smile crept across his face until it reached his eyes and brightened his whole face. He left without a word and Fury turned so he could hear what Barnes was doing, just in case. Old habits and all. 

He returned with a bottle and fetched a couple of glasses from the kitchen and when be poured the drink (good Irish whiskey, Fury would expect nothing less from Captain Rogers) Fury took it from Bucky’s hand and smelled it before taking a drink. It was strong and good and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and was so pleasant he almost downed the whole glass at once.

The door opened and he started. From down the hall came a creature with a thumping walk and heavy breathing, and then a brown Lab with a lolling tongue and a missing leg stuck his nose in Fury’s face, sniffed happily, and then rounded the table to do the same to Bucky, only with Bucky he got a scratch and a cheery greeting. Barnes really loved that dog. 

“Fury,” Steve Rogers said, leaning against the wall and looking in on the scene. The ball cap on his head was mercifully normal and the smile on his face became a little fixed when he saw his whiskey on the table. “Didn’t want to drink alone or you didn’t want to drink your own stuff?”

“Both, I guess,” Fury said. “Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

Rogers shook his head but he was smiling and took a seat next to Bucky, stepping over the dog. “What did you want, Fury?” he said, pouring a drink into Bucky’s empty glass. 

“I came to tell you I had information on an arms dealer operating out of Calcutta,” Fury said, sipping his drink and pulling a face.

“You could have called,” Steve pointed out. When he drank his face was straight. Must be the Irish in him.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to drink your whiskey.”

Steve chuckled and took another drink. 

“Or visit with Bucky,” Fury said, looking at him.

Steve looked first at Bucky and then at Fury. “I didn’t know the two of you were friendly.”

“We’re not. But I think we might be getting there,” Fury said, looking at Barnes, and for the first time since meeting him he smiled at him.


End file.
